A Man of Many Names
by LastFebruary
Summary: As the famous Professor Hershel Layton is prosecuted for saving terrorist, Clive Dove, from the death penalty, he reflects on the life of his brother. A man who was a villain, a husband and a father, and a child. This is the origin story of Jean Descole and Desmond Sycamore and Hershel Bronev. And it starts with everything ending. (Synopsis for the long awaited PL Musical).


**Hello all! It has been quite a while since I have posted anything, especially in the Professor Layton category. For those of you who were on this dreaded site in 2012, welcome back to this hellscape! I am much older, much more experienced, and once again, getting much more excited about Professor Layton. As many of you know, I am also professsorlayton on Tumblr and a while ago I made a post about writing a Professor Layton musical. With the summer craziness slowing down, I have written up a synopsis of a musical plot that I have been concocting for about a year now. I have written lyrics to the tunes of some of the most well-liked songs in the Layton score. If this plot summary receives good reception, I might post my script and lyrics. For now, please enjoy this novella. Part Two, coming soon.**

**Much love, LF**

Part One: Hershel Bronev

It had been several weeks since Hershel Layton spoke on behalf of a terrorist in court. He had been sitting in his office, reading through some mid-term papers, when he saw the protestors again. They had been relentless and unkind and though he understood their disgust in him, he tried his hardest to get them to understand why he believed in the young man who had plotted to destroy the city.

"You let a murderer go free!" Someone shouted into the window.

"You let him live!" Another cried. Layton shut his eyes and breathed in a tight, solid breath. He stood and tried to remember the results of the corruption of a good man and why he would never go back on his word. Clive and his brother one in the same. Maybe Clive was just another one of his names.

...

The first of his names was Hershel Bronev. He was small with fierce brown eyes that glittered red in the sunlight and chestnut brown curls that wrapped around his ears. His mother, Rachel, called him her little bear cub for his stature and protective nature. He was especially protective of his little brother, Theodore. They were quite a pair, those two brothers. Their father, Leon, was always impressed by their loyalty to each other. Loyalty to their family. Hershel was only seven years old and possessed a unique maturity that Leon didn't quite understand in someone so young.

"You're just a little boy," he would say to Hershel endearingly while ruffling his hair. Hershel typically did not respond to this comment because of the fact that it irritated him.

Leon was an archaeologist who was heavily interested in studying the Azran, an ancient civilization. He dealt with the excavation of a variety of archaeological sites. Some were vast and filled with treasures. Others contained ancient languages and scripts. Some were lined with booby traps.

Hershel had requested to learn about the sites at the ripe age of five. His father's work was interesting and he found that the prospect of discovery was stimulating. Leon would bring Hershel with him to various archaeological sites while Theodore, merely an infant, would stay at home with Rachel. They didn't start attending these digs until Theodore was a little older.

Leon and Hershel spent much time together and though Hershel didn't particularly like his father, he admired him in a way only a five year old child could. Leon was knowledgeable and intelligent. He knew how to explain things to Hershel in ways that made sense and were still challenging. As previously mentioned, Leon found his eldest son almost confusing, so it is difficult to know if the way he talked to him was on purpose or on accident.

Rachel knew deep down that Leon was too cold to be a father, but she prayed for children anyway. She assumed her warmth would balance her husband's chilly nature. However this dynamic left their household in a lukewarm love. Present, but not at all enough for their bright boys.

Fortunately, Hershel and Theodore were enough for each other. Though they were four years apart in age, they were close as could be. They slept in the same bed most nights, giggling and playing with little plastic toys shaped like dinosaurs. Sometimes they would sneak out of bed and pretend to be detectives and solve puzzles. Rachel would listen through the door, in love with the sound of their laughter. Leon was gone most nights, performing research.

"When can I go with you and Papa?" Theodore asked Hershel one night as they dumped a small box of plastic dinosaurs onto the hardwood of their bedroom. Two twin beds that they had pushed together so they could sleep next to each other sat against the left wall. On the desk on the opposite side of the room, a small lamp lit the room with yellow light. Various bookshelves littered with books and toy excavation kits and artifacts their father had given them lined every open wall. Leon figured this would stop them from drawing on the walls which Hershel had done quite a lot when he was younger.

"I started going when I was five." Hershel stated as he picked at a small container filled with stones and toy dinosaur bones with a plastic pick. "And you're only three."

"That's not fair!" Theodore protested.

"Yes it is."

"No, you get to go without me." He frowned and lunged for Hershel's plastic pickaxe.

"One day I'll take you to the sites, just us, and I can teach you everything you need to know." Theodore's small dark eyes lit up, sparkling with excitement.

"Just you and me?" He whispered.

"Yeah, Dad has taught me everything I need to know." Hershel said confidently. There was a slight and quiet giggle heard outside the door. Both boys looked at each other worriedly and leaned in. "He can't know what we're talking about." Hershel said softly, "Neither can Mom. We're a team, Theo, just you and me." Theodore nodded quickly. "One day we're going to discover the mysteries of the Azran. We're gonna figure it out. Before Dad. Before all of them." Theodore nodded again, understanding their brotherly pact. Hershel grinned at him, a couple of his teeth missing, a ring around his red, chapped lips. "Here," He reached over to a jigsaw puzzle laying unsolved beside them. Miscellaneous pieces scattered on the hardwood floor. According to the box, the puzzle would eventually depict a desert scape with a baby blue sky and fluffy white clouds. For the moment however, all that could be identified were a few pieces of tan colored rock and the color blue.

Hershel reached for two pieces that had already been put together. He took them in his hand and turned them over to the cardboard on the back. Quickly, he scanned the floor for a marker, identified one beneath their bed, and snatched it in his opposite hand.

"We're like these puzzle pieces, Theo." Hershel said. On the back of the first, he wrote "Hersh" and on the back of the second, he wrote "Theo." Their pet names for each other. "No matter what we'll always be brothers." He flipped the pieces over. The first piece depicted the tip of a tan colored stone with a blue sky behind it. On the second, the same sky was pictured with a single white cloud, wispy and dissolving. Hershel handed Theodore the piece with his own name on it and he kept the one with Theodore's name. "So we never forget each other." Hershel smiled his toothless smile.

"Thanks Hersh!" Theodore hugged him tightly, gripping the puzzle piece in his sweaty hand. "I love you."

"I love you too."

As the boys grew, Leon sensed their intelligence. By the time Hershel was eight and Theodore was four, he knew that the Targent Agency would want something with him and his family. That was what he was most terrified of. Though he was cold and difficult to understand, he loved his wife and his boys more than anything. And the power that Targent began to have over him was overwhelming. He didn't want it to overwhelm anyone he loved. Leon stopped taking Hershel and Theodore to excavation. He tried to limit their passion for archeology by removing their toys and excavation gadgets. For Hershel, this sudden shut-out made him want to learn more about Azran and their archeological secrets. For Theodore however, it made him lose interest all together. Hershel found this increasingly frustrating as archeology was a connection that he and Theodore had always shared. They made a promise to go to the sites together but now Theodore didn't even want to anymore. That would be the first thing Hershel blamed Leon for.

"Why can't I go with you anymore?" Hershel had asked his father.

"You're not allowed to go to the excavation sites Hershel, I don't know how many times I've told you that."

"But I did before!"

"Well the rules have changed."

"Why?"

"I don't need to explain myself to you!"

"Leon," Rachel said softly. They were sitting at the dinner table. Theodore was pretending to ignore the conversation as it was making him uncomfortable.

"Rachel, please," he said through gritted teeth.

"I just want to go with you." Hershel said, tears pooling in his red-brown eyes.

"Well I don't."

Hershel pushed his chair away from the table and jumped off. He ran away to his room and slammed the door as Rachel scolded Leon for yelling at their eldest son for the third time that week. It was only Monday.

Everything was changing for Hershel. In ways that he both detested and never imagined. He never thought Theodore would lose his passion for archeology. He never thought his father would begin to detest him. But what was worst of all. What was most detested and most unimaginable was what happened when Targent invaded.

It was an early summer evening. Leon had been especially irritable recently. Hershel had stopped asking to go digging months ago. He didn't talk as much as he used to. Though he and Theodore were still close, Hershel didn't feel connected to anyone in his family anymore. Rachel noticed this, but there was nothing she could do. She didn't understand her husband at all, let alone her eldest son. Hershel resembled Leon more ways than one and Rachel didn't know if that resemblance made their relationship better or worse.

The evening Targent came, Hershel and Theodore had been in the back sunroom, putting together a jigsaw puzzle. Rachel had been reading in the living room. Leon had been in his study. The house was silent, but peaceful.

Targent came around seven. They burst through the front door nearly breaking it off its hinges. Hershel and Theodore had been startled by the noise. They sat up and listened.

"Hersh what—" he silenced Theodore immediately.

"Wait." They looked in the direction of the front of the house. Suddenly they heard unfamiliar voices shouting, followed by Leon yelling something at Rachel. Hershel sprang to his feet and ran into the hallway, Theodore trudging behind him. They ran through the kitchen and stood at the edge of the room, looking towards the front of the house. Three ugly men in navy uniforms stood before Leon. Rachel stood in the archway of the living room off to the side, tears rolling down her cheeks and her chest rising and falling, gasping for breath. She heard the squeak of the wood floors towards the back of the house and her small dark eyes widened when she noticed her boys standing in the doorway.

"Get out of my house," Leon said defiantly. "Leave my family alone and don't come back, I want no part in this organization."

"Boys, go back and finish your puzzle." Rachel said sternly to them, holding back tears. Leon looked back, he didn't realize they were there. His red-brown eyes shook and became glassy. Hershel realized that maybe Leon did care about him. But it was too late to prove it now.

"Oi so you got kids?" The tallest intruder said.

"I'm sure they'd be great at the Nest," the fattest one said with an intimidating smirk. Theodore began to cry. Hershel stuck his arm out in front of his brother. The two men took a couple steps in their direction. Leon nearly swung his fists at them.

"Not. Another. Step."

"You don't have a choice." The shorter one said. "We could take you and your girl or all of you."

"Please, leave my sons alone." Leon raised his arms, as if he was surrendering. The Targent officers crossed their arms, seemingly content with how this unannounced meeting was going.

"Leon," Rachel said in a hushed tone, "We can't just leave them here." Her voice fluctuated with uneven breathing. She choked on her own breath and tears. He looked at her with pained eyes. They both knew they didn't have a choice.

"Leave my sons," Leon repeated, "And we will go with you, no questions asked."

"Papa!" Hershel screamed. Leon turned and for the first time in a long time he smiled at him. He knelt down on one knee, gesturing for his boys to come into his arms. Theodore bypassed Hershel's arm and ran, sobbing. Leon maintained eye contact with his eldest son.

"I love you Hershel. You take care of your brother."

"Papa..." Hershel ran towards him, but the men in navy uniforms were already hoisting him to his feet, ripping him away from Theodore. Rachel wrapped her arms around both her sons, showering them with kisses on the tops of their heads.

"I love you both. More than you will ever know. Hershel, you take care of Theodore and Theodore, you listen to your big brother." Rachel's lips quivered, "I'm so sorry." She gave them a tight squeeze, her tears dripping on their chestnut hair.

Leon reached down and gave Rachel his hand. They both stood, the navy clad soldiers gripped their upper arms and led them out of the house. Hershel and Theodore stood in the doorway, thunderstruck. Leon and Rachel were shoved into a large military grade vehicle, the uniformed men hardly paying attention to their cries. This would be the last time Hershel would see his mother.

...

At first Hershel didn't know what to do. It was summer, so they weren't in school. No one knew that Leon and Rachel Bronev had been taken in the middle of the night. And as lonely as the situation became, Hershel found that he could manage. He still had Theodore, who was the most important person in his life. The poor boy didn't know what had happened. He cried for days after his parent's disappearance and Hershel found no way to console him. He began to blame himself for his brother's sadness.

At some point, word spread that two boys named Hershel and Theodore Bronev were in need of homes. And before he realized it, their sad, lonely house got a call. What Hershel didn't expect was a family that wanted only one child. He also didn't expect them to specifically ask for the child named Hershel.  
He was terrified to leave his brother alone, terrified to pass up the opportunity to find them a family, and terrified to disobey his parents, though he knew they could be dead. In an act of bravery or terror (Hershel didn't know which) he agreed to the terms set by the family. But when Lucille and Roland Layton arrived on their doorstep, it was Theodore they took with them.

"But I don't want to go away!" Theodore said defiantly. Hershel was sitting on the stairs, packing a small bag.

"Don't be silly," he told him, "You'll be living with the Layton family from now on."

"But Hershel I want to stay with you!" He tugged on his brother's arm to stop him from packing.

"Don't call me that. Remember, that's your name now, Hershel." The real Hershel put his finger to Theodore's lips to silence him and zipped the small bag. He took Theodore's hand and led him to the front door. Hershel opened it and before them stood an older couple, their faces bright and kind. Theodore quickly ducked beneath Hershel's arm and gripped his brother's sweater tightly.

"How do you do, Mr. and Mrs. Layton?" Hershel smiled at them. "This is my brother, Hershel." Theodore looked up at him, in complete disbelief.

"So you're the famous Hershel, aye? We've heard that you're a very clever boy!" Mr. Layton leaned in. Theodore inched closer to his brother.

"Well hello there little Hershel," Mrs. Layton leaned in and ruffled his chestnut curls. "It's such a shame, you know we can't take both of you." She said this to both boys as she stood up straight.

"Yes," Hershel said with a smile, "But I know Hershel will be happy."

"And what about you?" Lucille asked.

"Oh don't worry, a family in the village will take care of me," Hershel lied, "The, uh, the Phibbs!" Theodore gripped the back of his brother's sweater more tightly, his head hung low.

"I see," Mrs. Layton nodded, "Well, it was nice to meet you anyway."

"You too." Hershel replied. Theodore grabbed his hands, firmly believing that if held onto them tight enough, he wouldn't have to let go. Hershel looked at him and gave him a soft smile, to tell him that everything was going to be alright. As the Laytons began to walk back towards their car, their hands were separated. Theodore refused to look away as he was led to their car. Hershel stood in the doorway and watched him leave, praying for him to be happy.

"Be happy brother. This is the start of your new life," he murmured to himself, "As Hershel Layton."

And at that moment Hershel and Theodore Bronev ceased to exist. The very fabric of their beings were replaced by Hershel Layton and a boy with no name.


End file.
